Disparaître

The ground was still wet. It had rained all night but that didn't stop the kids from coming out of their dens and chase the ball. They would run from one side to the other screaming, "Ball. Ball. Get the ball. Throw. Throw. Throw."  If standing at the centre, one could see an endless playground with few grassy patches all around. The ground did not have a definite shape. A chinar tree stood on one side. It was a restplace for kids, audience and other people. The tree was big enough to cast its shadow over a large area. 

My cricket kit lay next to me. I sat there and listened to the shouts. Alongwith the screeches there was a sound the chinar leaves were making. It seemed like the air and the tree were conversing. Arguments used to be the most interesting part of the games. With no umpires there to decide and no cameras to give a better view, every fall of a wicket or a boundary led to arguments. The captains of the two teams then talked and decided the fate of the game.

One small part of the ground was reserved for small kids. These kids were not allowed to play in big boys' area. They came to play everyday, each with a plastic ball, a small bat and snacks. Played for a while and spent most of their time snacking.

The big boys on the other hand took the game very seriously. They would all meet at the fixed time, make teams and play. Those who joined late were made to do the commentry.

The games usually started in the evening but that day being a holiday, everybody was out early. I came with my stuff too but I didn't join. I sat there and watched them play for two hours.

I looked at their muddy shoes and then at my clean ones. My heart started pounding heavily. I looked around. I grabbed my bag and left.
On my way back, many greetings were sent my way but I didn't reply to any of them. I just wanted to reach home as fast as I could. Walking through those crowded streets felt strange. I had never been alone there.

As I reached home and opened the gate, I dropped the kit near the stairs and went in. "Abid is home. Come, son. You must be tired. Had a good game?", Abbu said when he saw. Abbu looked at me and got it that I had not played. He then called for Ammi, "Get him something to eat." Ammi came running out of the kitchen with a tray in her hand. "Here, son. Eat something and go rest in your room.", she put the tray down. There was a glass of milk, a fried egg and tandoori roti (lavassa).

I took a sip of milk and put the glass down. I was not hungry at all. "Abid. I bought your new books. They are in my desk. Master sahab said that your classes will start next week.", Abbu said. He was getting ready to leave for work. He put on his grey sherwani and a black cap- the Jinnah cap and left.

I finished the milk, took out the books from Abbu's desk and went to my room. The books were inside a polythene bag. There was a notebook and a pen too.

Abbu always bought two sets of books- one for me and other for Javed. Javed was my best friend in the class. We were always together. We studied and played together. His father was a poor man. "Abbu ji can't even buy me a new uniform, shoes and books. He is not rich like your Abbu. He says that your Abbu is a kind man.", he used to say. Abbu often helped them financially and bought books for Javed. But this time he bought only one set of books.

I closed the books and went to the window. It had started to rain again. I looked at the picturesque the clouds made and thought about Javed. He used to tell everybody that he saw people and animals in the clouds. "I saw my grandma one day. I even talked to her. She asked me to be a good kid and help Abbu.", he told me.

Javed was very ambitious. He always said that he would study hard and be a rich man one day. "When I am big, I will buy new clothes for Abbu ji. He never buys new dresses for himself.", he said.
Javed was a very funny man. Everything he said and the way he talked made everybody laugh. He used to come to school with a new story everyday. During the recess time, everybody gathered around him to listen to things he had to say and laughter followed.

Javed used to tell us about his Abbu ji. "You know men in uniforms come to our houses with guns. They drag all men out and beat them.", he said. "They took Abbu ji with them last night and when he came back he looked so ugly. His eyes and lips were swollen. He couldn't even call my name properly.", he used to laugh and make fun.

This story was not funny anymore, as we grew older. He got angrier day by day. "Abbu ji is an old man now. How can they treat him like that?", his eyes turned red whenever he told me about it. "Abbu ji says that I am a big boy now. I must take care of myself or else they will take me too.", he even cried many times.

I used to ask Abbu about it. Abbu is a lawyer. He told me that I shouldn't get involved in these things. "We are helping Javed and his family in every possible way we can. There is nothing more we can do for them.", he said.

I was still thinking about Javed when Ammi called me, "Come out for lunch, beta." Abbu was back. I joined Ammi and Abbu at the dining mat (Dastarkhwan). Plates were set and Abbu had already started eating but Ammi was waiting for me. "I saw Javed's mother in the market today. You should go visit them sometime. After all, he was your best friend.", Abbu said to me.

I had never been to Javed's house. He had, however, been to mine many times. "You won't like it. Our house is very small and too dark inside.", he said. Javed had a dream house project added to the list of 'things to do once I am rich' too.

Ammi knew that I wouldn't go to see Javed's parents. "I can come along if you want.", she said. "No. I will go by myself.", I replied.

I finished eating and went back to my room. The rain had stopped. There was lightning and thunders. Those sounded like a loud roar. First there was lightning and then the sound would follow. Javed was scared of these sounds. He used to hide under a tree or something and close his ears. And I would laugh at him whenever he did that.
"You know? The door and windows of my house start shaking when the thunder is on.", he said.

There was one more thing he was scared of- being away from home. He always said that however small his home be, he loved it anyway for there is Abbuji and Ammi ji there.

Javed's house was only half an hour walk away from mine. Ammi asked me to take an umbrella along. She also said that I shouldn't go emptyhanded. She asked me to buy some fruits on my way to Javed's.

When I reached the place, Javed's Ammi was cleaning the yard. I got in and introduced myself as Javed's friend. I hadn't met his family ever. So, his Ammi didn't recognise me but I knew her. Javed had shown me his family photo.

"Come in.", she said and led me inside the house. It was dark inside. There was a single room with three beds in three corners of the room and a small kitchen in the fourth. The rain water got inside the house. Floor and walls were made from mud. She asked me to sit on Javed's bed. "I will get you some sharbat.", she said and left.

She came back with the drink- a glass of lime water- right when Javed's Abbu entered. "Abid ji. You are here.", he said and turned towards his wife, "He is sahab ji's son. Javed and Abid ji were in same class. Make some nice tea for him."

While Javed's mother was busy making tea, Javed's Abbu and I sat there quiet for a while. Then he sighed and said, "You met him a day before, didn't you?" I nodded. He continued, "We never wanted to give up. But now we know he is never coming back." His eyes filled with tears and he looked at his wife. "I have to be strong for her.", he said and wiped off his eyes.

I couldn't stay. I wanted to cry out loud. I got up and said, "I have to go now. Ammi must be waiting." I rushed out of the house without uttering another word. 

I walked through the water and the mud. I had no idea about what was going on around me. It felt like a heavy boulder was placed on my chest that was not letting me breathe properly. My chappals were all covered with mud and the mud had climbed upto to my knees.

I reached the playground. The kids were playing, calling each other and shouting in excitement. Amidst every shout I could  hear Javed's voice, "Run, Abid. Go. Go. Go." And then within a minute every other voice around me disappeared and all I  heard around me was Javed calling my name.

I remembered the last time I had seen him. "They came back last night. They tried to drag Abbuji out but I didn't let them. They just went away.", he had said. He was very uneasy. "They do this all the time. He is my father. I had to stop them.", he cried.

We spent three hours together. He told me how these things made him so angry that he felt like killing people. "These things make me mad.", he said.

"People say that they won't let it go. They never do. They would come back for me. Shall I be scared? I am worried about Abbu ji and Ammi. What if something happens to me?", he just kept talking to himself.

That was the last time I had seen Javed. I had never known that his fears will come true. The next day we heard that Javed was taken away and was nowhere to be found.

Javed had disappeared. Nobody knew about his whereabouts. No one could tell what happened to him. "This was known. This is what they do to our boys. Take them away.", people would say. They were angry but helpless. "These things happen and we don't see anything we can do to change it.", they said.

I didn't leave my house for few weeks. I didn't have Javed with me anymore. But then the memories of Javed started to fade away over time. Javed became just another name in the list.

Like other people I also moved on. But I knew that the burden of loss my heart felt would be there always.

Helping hands

Those hands, visibly veined with a tree like pattern, trembled while the watery eyes, bushed up in between the dense, dark eyelashes and surrounded by crinkled stretch of skin, watched the thread struggle to get inside the eye of the needle. Fatima cursed her glasses. The scene blurred further before her eyes. "Oh, old age.", she muttered. Was it really the age causing troubles? Did the glasses cause the fogginess? Was it really the strain that caused the tears drain out of her eyes? Only Fatima could tell.

Long grey hair, fair wrinkled skin, crooked back, weak legs- Fatima was a perfect combination of beauty and caducity. With her legs crossed, she sat in a wooden sofa, fighting the needle and the thread, her useless glasses, her age and, apparently, the tears.

"Fatima Bi, he is here.", a young lady came in to inform her. "Already? I got so busy making this that I completely lost the track of time. What time is it, Aasiya?", she asked as she used her teeth to cut the thread off a piece of cloth she was working on and held it up for display. "This is beautiful, Bi. It is quarter to one. Shall I ask him to wait?", Aasiya asked. She was looking at the piece of cloth Fatima had been decorating. It was a blue handkerchief with a beautiful rose drawn on it, with the thread. The rose had big petals and a dark green stem and leaves. "Yes, please do that.", she said and got up. She continued as Aasiya started to leave "And offer him something to drink. I will be there soon."

Fatima folded the handkerchief and poured some scent on it. She took it close to her nose to make sure that it smelled good. "Perfect.", she said and smiled to herself.

Fatima closed the almirah and was about to leave the room when the bell rang. "Oh, it is one already. I must rush.", she bolted the door and walked towards her cabin. On her way, she saw another young girl holding an old lady by her hand. "All well?", Fatima replied to the smile with a smile and asked. "Yes, Bibi. Just found her wandering in the garden.", the girl replied pointing towards the old lady. Fatima kept her hand on the shoulder of the woman and said, "Savi, it is lunch time. The bell rang. You should be in the dining hall now. Asma will take you.", she said and asked the girl to take her.

Fatima entered the cabin. Her cabin was a small room with a square table in the right corner and an almirah in the left corner. The table was surrounded by three chairs- Fatima's chair facing the door and other two on the other side of the table.

Fatima could see the back of the person sitting on one of the chairs. She went in to face a boy, who seemed to be in his teens, and her face flushed with joy. "Did they offer you anything? I hope they did else they are in a big trouble.", she said. The boy got up to greet the lady. "Salaam, Badi pufo. How are you?", he asked. "Old and ugly.", she replied and they both laughed.

"Lunch time. What would you like to eat? We don't cook varieties but we cook good.", Fatima asked. Arsalan put hand in his bag and took out a packet. "I have eaten. I got your favorite chana puri.", he handed over the packet to Fatima. "Ah, well. It has been a while. You must taste some too.", she opened the pack.

After they were done eating, they went to the garden. "This place is very nice and peaceful. I will show you around later but let me talk to you well first.", Fatima said to Arsalan. Arsalan held her hand and helped her sit on the bench. "You look weak, Badi Pufo. Weaker than the last time.", he said as he sat down on the grass near her. "Age, son. I am old. But I must tell that I am strong here.", she pointed towards her heart and laughed.

Time passed and they talked about things. "It has been a year, Badi Pufo. Don't you miss home?", Arsalan asked. "They say home is where heart is.", she replied. She looked around and then turned back to ask, " Do your parents know that you came to visit me? Do they ever talk about wanting to see me?"

The bond between Fatima and Arsalan was old and strong. Fatima had been there since his birth. Fatima was Arsalan's grandaunt. They all lived in the same house- Arsalan, Arsalan's father, Arsalan's mother and Fatima- untill Arsalan's mother Zohra started to have problems with taking care of an old person. "Who takes care of an aunt? She doesn't have her own kids to take care of her, why should I suffer? I have got my own life, Wahid. I can't do it. You have to get a maid to look after her or send her to your cousin's.", Zohra would tell her husband. The fights and arguments forced Fatima to leave the house for good. Wahid never tried to stop her or even reach her.

Arsalan, however, loved and missed his Badi Pufo a lot. Being a kid, he didn't have much say in this matter.

"Too early, Badi Pufo. They will miss you but now is not the time.", Arsalan replied. "Sometimes I think that would the thing have been different if it was your grandmother? Your mother was right. Who takes care of an aunt?", Fatima sighed and continued, "Nevermind. How is school?"

Arsalan told Fatima about his friends and teachers. He also told her about his grades and that he was a favorite of everyone in the school.

"Badi Pufo, I will take you home one day, when I am big enough to take care of you.", Arsalan told Fatima. "Oh, my sweet child. Your Badi Pufo won't live that long. I am happy here. I am helping people. God bless your grandfather. I am so thankful that he left this little money for his sister and I could start this project. It brings me pride and peace.", she said.

Then Fatima took Arsalan around the house. "This is our kitchen. And that is Haleema, our cook.", she said as they entered the kitchen. "Haleema, you know my grandson, don't you?", she asked the cook. Haleema smiled and replied, "Yes.", turned towards Arsalan and said, "Fatima Bi talks about you a lot. I am glad that I got a chance to meet you."

Fatima took Arsalan in a room where all the housemates were present. "Ladies, this is my grandson Arsalan." Arsalan greeted them all. Fatima held his hand and took him to the broad who was standing at the window. "Savi?", she called. It was the same woman Fatima had seen with Asma at lunch time. "My grandson.", she pointed towards Arsalan. Savi smiled, ran her hand over Arsalan's head and kissed the boy on his forehead. "That was Savi, Arsalan. The first lady I met after I left home. She was alone too. She is a very good friend but we could never be real friends. She forgets things. Some disease of brain.", Fatima told Arsalan as they left the room.

It was time for Arsalan to leave. Fatima walked him to the gate. "Arsalan, this year has been tough. I do not feel very well now. Do not wait too long to come back. Come again soon.", she said.

They reached the gate and Fatima hugged him. "You know? You are a big boy now.", she said. Fatima realised that Arsalan was growing up and she believed that he would grow up into a decent and caring man. "Son, visit them after I am dead. They need a helping hand here.", she said.

Arsalan was upset. He had something to say. He wished Fatima would look up in his eyes and know the problem. "Badi Pufo, I am going away. They are sending me abroad for higher studies. This  might be the last time you are seeing me.", he wanted to tell Fatima but couldn't.

Fatima on the other hand wished his son would come to see her every day. She knew that she didn't have much life left. But deep in her heart she had a feeling that those strong hands would not be there to hold her weak ones anymore. Little did she know that her fear was going to come true. She gathered courage to look up and when she saw Arsalan's eyes she sighed. She had seen something. She couldn't look for long. The fogginess was back. "I wish, son, to see you again.", she said and pushed him away as if asking him to leave. And as he started walking away, she whispered, "And not all wishes come true. Not all wishes come true.

Fatima sat on the nearest bench as the old wet eyes watched Arsalan disappear. In her worst state of health, Fatima only lived to see her grandson again.

"It is a vampire hunt, mates. We are looking for a heartless blood sucker or many of them.", Jake turned around to imform the team. He seemed too confident about it. Everybody in the room turned silent and looked at the white board where Becky had written 'VAMPIRE HUNT' in capital letters.
We were a team of nine. Jake was our leader and Becky led the girls. Our leader was smarter, sharper and stronger but the girls, being girls, would not admit. Then there was Smith, Alex, Lisa, Emma, Ron, me and Barney, the dog.
"Oh my God. I am sorry, Captain. I won't be able to work on this case. Even if the vampire spares me, my mom won't. Call me back if you need someone to find a lost Grand dad or a dog.", Alex got up to leave. Did I mention that Alex was a chicken heart? And that her mother was the scariest creature I had ever seen on animal planet? If I ever had to choose between being Alex and being Mowgli, I would have chosen 'being Barney'.
"Stop that chicken, Barn.", Jake shouted. Barney was the smartest member in the team. He was Jake's dog. Jake believed that he and his dog were over qualified for the job and that they were doing a favor to the team by being there. I was a fan of Jake too but that was not important right now. Barney pulled Alex back to his seat. Jake went to him and asked, "Are we a team of cowards, mate? Do you not remember  the pledge we took when all of us joined this team?", he turned and said," Becky, please tell one of your girls to repeat the words we swore on."
"That we would protect the dogs and weak old grand parents of the society", Lisa volunteered to speak these words.
"But this is a cat, captain.", Alex protested.
"I get your point, Alex. But tell me, what do our dogs feast upon on their birthdays? The cats. Don't they? Every cat issue is a dog issue.", Becky said. Everybody clapped and praised her smartness. Alex couldn't say no to this and stayed. This was one of the rarest moments when Leader Jake praised Co-leader Becky too.
Jake pointed towards a table that was lying in a corner. It was a wooden plank adjusted on few bricks. There was a board by the right leg which said 'Examination cell'.
Jake started walking towards the table and we followed him. He took a stick from the small box that was lying next to the table and said," Look, mates. This is Mrs. Doyle's cat, Jess. Smith found it in the garden. See those marks?", he pointed towards the wounds on Jess's neck and continued," These are bite marks and I believe.. Ummm..  I mean Beckie and I believe that these are caused by a vampire." He wouldn't have mentioned Beckie if she hadn't given him an I-will-kill-you-stare.
"And we have to find the... ", Beckie stopped and I uttered "sucker?" She didn't seem very impressed by my remark. Every face turned towards me, then looked at Beckie and turned back to the dead cat.
"Barney? Jake, I think Barney smells something. Some clue, may be.", Alex exclaimed. Barney was sniffing around the body and then licked it. "Oh yes, look our genius Barney smells something. I guess food. Any other guessess? Anybody?", Ron laughed and other girls followed.
Jake assigned work to everyone. Smith, Emma, Ron and I went to check the garden. Alex and Lisa were sent to check around the city if there were any other victims. Jake and Beckie took Barney along to talk to the Mrs. Doyle.
In the park...
"Does anybody know what exactly are we looking for? Because I don't.", Ron sounded disappointed. "A fallen vampire tooth? Blood? I don't know. Foot prints?", I thought of few things we could be searching. Emma looked around and said, "All I see is our footprints all over the wet muddy place. Why do Jake and Beckie get to do the cleanest job always?" She didn't like all the mud sticking to her shoes.
While the three of us were talking, Smith was busy smelling the flowers and watching the plants.
"Done, mates. I collected enough stuff to catch the murderer. Let us head back.", Smith pointed towards a translucent bag in his hand and smiled proudly. Ron and Emma exchanged looks. Emma took that bag from Smith's hand and said, "Let us see what has Detective Smith got in his little magic bag."  We didn't call each other as detectives unless meant sarcastically. Smith let her take the bag easily but with a warning,"Easy, Emm, you wouldn't want to ruin the only clues that can lead us to the killer."
"Ok, Smith", Emma put her hand inside the bag to take out things and said,"A biscuit pack because?"
"I believe these biscuits were used by the killer for snacking with the blood.", Smith replied.
"A toothpick because?", Emma put her hand in again and took put a used dirty toothpick. Ron had an eww look on her face.
"Because I think that the killer used and threw it here.", Smith said.
Emma didn't want to put her hand in again. She returned the bag to Smith. "And Detective Smith, how will we know if these things you believe are true or not?", Ron asked. "I don't know. I can't do everything. That is for the team to decide.", Smith said and walked to the exit.
Back at the shed...
By the time we got back, everybody had come. Beckie was telling everyone how useless had the chat with Mrs. Doyle gone. "We returned her cat's body. All she said was that she will kill the monster who did this to Jess.", she said.
"Hey, guys. You are back too. Any luck?", Jake looked at me with a raised brow. "Luck favored Detective Smith only. He has something for you.", Ron winked and sat on her seat.
Jake checked the bag, the things and asked the same questions, "How can we know if these were killer's? And how will these things help us to catch the killer?"
"We can take these to Paddy's lab. I am sure he will know what to do with these.", Alex said. Jake was not happy with the idea. He ignored Alex's remark.
There was a reason behind our all-kids-team and that was that Jakr made us realise that our parents didn't take us seriously because we were 'just kids', 'good for nothing kids', 'can do nothing on their own kids' etc.
"You mean seek help from an elder, Alex?", Beckie said, "No. We are not doing that."
Jake seemed disappointed. He took the marker and made a small circle on the board. "This is our today's progress. Zero. We need to work harder, mates.", he said.
"Yes. Tomorrow Jake and I will take Barney with us and talk to Mrs. Doyle again. And you all can get back to your work. Results, people. We want results.", Beckie continued when Jake finished talking. 
Next day, Jake and Beckie left with Barney to visit Mrs. Doyle again. Rest of us stayed. "I am not doing garden again. You boys go to check the garden and we will go around the city.", Emma said.
"Yes. And you've got Detective Smith with you. No worries. Right, girls?", Ron giggled.
We went to turn the leaves in the garden. Girls wandered all around the city.
Later that day when we returned to the shed, girls were already back. Jake and Beckie were sitting there in their chairs. Barney was tied with his chain and he was sitting so quiet. Jake always left Barney unchained.
"Something is wrong.", Smith whispered. Even the girls were silent. We just pushed each other forward and sat down.
"Jake?", I called his name. Everyone was eager to know whay had happened. "Guys, turns out that our guess about a vampire being the killer was wrong. We will have to drop this case.", Jake said.
Beckie interupted, "Seriously, Jake? This is how you tell the truth to our team? You promised you won't hide anything. Ok, guys", she turned towards us and continued,"We went to see Mrs. Doyle today and we took Barney along. Mrs. Doyle recognised and almost killed the 'Monster' who killed Jess. Turned out that our victim cat was Barney's birthday feast food."
The room roared with exclamations. All thought so big of the smart dog Barney. But now he was a culprit tied in chains.

Protégeme

The silhouette of the moonlit curled and contorted branches on my wall only got scarier day by day. They would form a new pattern every night. I spent nights with my head burried under the rug, watching the spooky figures dangle in breeze. I heard voices which I always wanted to believe were only in my head and not for real but I was not sure. Tonight was no different. I did not feel safe in this house anymore, not since Julian left.

Dad got a call this morning that we could have her back. I was really glad about it. I believed things will be back to normal once Julian is back in the house.

About two months ago, the family had to move to this new place. We were rich enough to buy the biggest property in the town. I loved our new house unlike Julian who always had a problem accepting the change. "Big houses like this one are usually haunted. You watch movies, don't you?", she had this habit of scaring me by telling me such stories and it worked everytime.

Ours being the biggest property covered a large area. The house stood in the extreme right corner of the land and to the left of it was a big garage. Rest of the land had not been put to use. Dad was working on a plan to make that land useful.

Julian and I took the two adjacent rooms in the first floor of three storeyed house. The outside view from both the rooms was almost same. At the back of our house was a land, which once was a cementery. The land now belonged to some I-do-not-know-who. There stood an incompletely built structure on that land which did not seem to be completed anytime soon. There was a tree close to the wall of our house whose branches extended to the windows of both our rooms. Mom and Dad took the one room downstairs.

First three nights went so well. Everybody, Julian included, was having a great time. We all liked the new place a lot. Until on the forth night we heard some cries. "Honey, What is it?", mom asked. "Julian's room.", dad pointed and rushed upstairs to check on Julian. Mom and I followed him. Julian was standing near the window, weeping. Her eyes were all red. Mom held me closer to her. "Julian? Julian, what happened? Why aren't you in your bed?", Dad asked as he pulled her away from that window. She didn't speak a word. She was scared but what frightened her, she won't tell. Mom stayed with Julian that night and Dad stayed with me.

Next morning Dad tried to talk Julian into what happened the previous night. She didn't remember anything. She was very normal in the morning. Julian and I went out to see the market and get us few things. We stopped to grab something to eat. "Ben, did you see what happened last night? You were there, weren't you?" Julian started talking. I was surprised to hear that. "But you told dad that you did not remember anything about last night. Why would you lie?", I asked. "Yes, I lied because I was not sure about what I saw. You know I heard some voices last night. Somebody was outside my window. He was dragging something, made from iron perhaps. When I got up to look out, I saw a...", Julian stopped when I interrupted, "Julian, if this is one of your ugly tricks to scare your little brother, then let me tell you I am not a little boy anymore." I, however, was scared to the bones.

After the dinner that night, we helped mom with dishes. Mom and Dad were trying to make sure that Julian was fine. "Do you want me to stay with you tonight, Jules?", mom asked. "No, mom. I will be fine.", Julian smiled and ran upstairs. I, on the other hand, wanted to ask mom to stay with me but I had to stick to the manly words I said to Julian about being a grown up.

Later that night, I was fast asleep when I heard some cries again. This time those cries were not coming from Julian's room but my room. I turned and tossed off the bed to find Julian standing at my window shouting at somebody, "Get out of here. You can't scare us. Do you understand that? Don't you dare frighten my little brother or hurt him, you scar faced ugly man." "Julian, what is wrong with you? What are you doing in my room? And who are you shouting at? The tree?", I hated her for making me shiver with fear. "Shhhhhhh, Ben. Get back. I don't want you near this window. That man standing there with an axe says that he wants to hurt you.", she pushed me away. I ran downstairs to my parents. Dad came upstairs and found Julian sleeping in my bed, like she had been sleeping there for a long time.

"Benno, why don't you go and sleep with your mother? I will close the window and be back in a while. Ok, son?", Dad asked me to leave the room.

"Did Benno sleep?", I heard Dad talking to mom, "I checked everything. The window, her room. There is nobody there. Must be a bad dream. Go back to sleep."

Next morning again, Julian was as normal as she was the day before. "Good morning, parents. Hey, Ben. Sleep well?", she took a loaf of bread from the table and sat down on a chair. I prefered to not look at her. "Julian, are you fine?", mom asked. "Yes, mom. Never been better. Why?", she replied. Mom just ended the conversation with a nod. Dad left for work and mom went back to the kitchen. Julian looked at me. I am sure she could see the fear in my eyes very clearly. "Ben, I am not letting him hurt you. You don't need to worry about it. Alright, brother?", she whispered. She remembered last night too. Why was she lying to mom and dad? What was going on in her mind?

Things worsened when Julian disappeared one night. Dad found her in the garage next morning. "Julian, what is going on with you? Why were you in garage last night? And how did you leave the house? I found the door locked from inside this morning.", Dad interrogated but Julian was in no mood to tell the truth. "She is lying to you, dad. She lied about the other two nights too. She remembers everything.", I had to let them know. But who believes the youngest kid when the older one cries. "Ok. Ok. Now here is the deal. None of you two leaves the house without telling your mom or me.", Dad set the rules.

That afternoon I was busy drawing pictutes in my room. I didn't leave the room till mom called us for lunch. Julian was already there. I didn't talk to her and sat on my chair. "What do think you were doing this morning? You know telling them the truth can cause you trouble. I am just trying to protect you.", Julian sounded so furious. Mom came with the food and she stopped talking. She gave me an enraged look and started eating the food.

She came to my room later that day. She talked with a nicer tone, "I jumped out of the window last night and hurt my ankle.", she showed me her swollen ankle.

At first, dad thought he could handle the things himself but then he gave up and went for some medical help. Doctors told dad that Julian's presence in the house could make other kids uneasy. So, she was sent to an asylum.

After having her locked up for a month, they were letting her out tomorrow. Next morning when I got up, I got properly dressed and combed my hair well. I was all ready to see my sister. I went downstairs to find mom working in the kitchen. "Mom, where is dad? He has to go get Julian back from the assylum.", I pulled a chair out and sat on it. "Yes, son. Yiur dad left already. They must be reaching home anytime.", she replied.

I heard the car engine come to a halt right at front of our door. I ran out to see Julian. Dad took out a bag from the back of the car and asked me to take it inside the house. "Julian? Where is Julian?", Mom came running. "Julian, get out of the car. Your mother and brother are eager to see you.", Dad knocked at the window of the back seat. Door opened and there she stood right in front of us.

We all brought her in. Dad asked her to go and freshen up. She went to her room upstairs. Julian looked different. She was quiet and frail. The dark circles under her eyes made her look weaker.

"Doctors said that they did a lot of  tests on Julian. The results were normal. She behaved normal. No violence, no crying, no nightmares. So, they discharged her sooner.", Dad passed Julian's reports to mom. "Dad, is something wrong with the house? Because Julian has been behaving weirdly since we moved here.", I was not finished yet but Dad hushed me. He welcomed Julian to have breakfast with her family after such a long time.

Julian stayed in her room all day long. She had locked herself in the room. We got to see her only at the dinner table. "Julian, if you have any problem staying alone in your room you can shift to Ben's room and stay with him.", Dad told her. I was glad that I would get to spend more time with my sister but she refused. She finished her food, went upstairs and locked her room from inside.

Following day went well too. Julian spent most of her time with the family. Mom and Dad were really happy to see Julian well and fine.

One fine morning, mom came to my room to wake me up, "Ben, wake up. Granny is not well. Your dad and I are going to see her. Look after your sister and the house well. We will be back tomorrow."

They left. Julian and I waved them off. Julian had not had any real conversation with me since she got back. "Do you hate me?", I asked. "No, I don't. Go to your room and study.", she replied. We didn't see each other during the day. I went downstairs for lunch but she didn't come. She didn't come out for dinner also. I was worried for her and angry with the way she had been behaving.

I went to Mom and dad's room and started crying, "Why, mom? Why did you think that it was safe to leave me alone with her?" Julian heard me and came out of her room to look for me. "Ben? Ben, where are you?, she entered the room, "what are you crying about?" She found me sitting in a dark corner with my head down on knees. She tried to reach me. "Why are you acting so different? I thought things would be same when you are back but now I don't like having you back.", I told her.  She walked a step back , "it is because, Ben, I don't like it anymore. Lying to mom and dad is not good."

"But you said you would protect me.", I looked up to see her. "I did, din't I?", she sat down at a distance and sighed, "and I am still protecting you, Ben." Just then she looked at something and shouted, "What is that on your arm, Ben? Is that blood?" I looked down and saw a lot of blood oozing out of that wound. "Did you hurt yourself?", she asked. "No, Jules, you hurt me.", I replied, "I just cut myself with this knife, like this." I made another incision on my arm. "Stop it, Ben.", she shouted at me. "No, Julian. I don't stop, you protect me and if you can't do that then Daddy's favorite kid may have to go back to the assylum.", I continued cutting my arm. She slapped me hard to get me rid of that knife. I ran out of that room and hid in a kitchen almirah. She came after me but she couldn't see me. "Ben, please come out and talk to me. Tell me what do you want me to do?", she demanded, "I lied to our parents about my health. I never let them know that it was you who cried all the night and not me. I never told them that I spent that night in garage because I saw you leaving the house through the window and followed you. And then you locked me out. I prevented you from going to that assylum by not letting them know that you were the one who needed medical help, Ben." She searched places to find me as she continued to talk, "But, Ben, we should tell them. They will help you. This thing with your virtual scar faced friend is getting ugly now and see, you end up hurting yourself." She started looking in the kitchen. She had the knife in her hand. She reached the almirah I was in and before she could open it, I pushed the door hard and she fell down. I ran upstairs now. I stumbled over the stairs and hurt myself.

"Shhhh. She is looking for us. She hates you and if she tells mom and dad about you, they will hate you too.", I talked to Scar. That is what I called my friend. He was always there. When everyone thought that I was alone, he was with me. Julian knew about him. I told her and showed her Scar's pictures too. I had drawn a lot of them.

I never had any problem with the moving but I didn't like leaving my friends behind. I met Scar in this house and he said that he would never let me leave. He said that he would find a way and make me stay forever. I told him that I would take him along when we move next time but he said that he could not leave the house. So, I had to stay for him.

Scar was now scared that Julian will tell Dad everything and they will take me away. So, he asked me to let him handle it his way. He had a plan and cutting me was a part of it.

Julian came into the room. She knew I was hiding in one of my almirahs. I came out and hit her hard with my baseball stick because Scar asked me to. She fell unconcious. I sat besides her. I didn't like hurting my sister. She should have listened to us.

Next day began. Julian was still sleeping on the floor. "Ben? Jules?", I heard mom call out our names. They were home. A few slaps to myself and few head to wall bumps and I was all set to face mom.

"Mom.", I ran downstairs and hugged her. "What happened to you? Where is your sister?", she made me sit down on a chair and checked my bruises. She called out for dad. Dad saw me and went to check Julian. "She hurt me. She cut me with a knife and hit me. Please call the doctor to check her again.", I said. 

How could they let a monster, who hurt a liittle boy, stay. She had a story to tell but nobody believed her. They called the assylum and sent her back. After everybody believing that Julian had shown some violent signs, they were not letting her out anytime soon. Scar was happy that our secret was safe.

"Hearth"

Baburam stirred the boiling tea, raised the spoon to a height and then dropped the tea back into the vessel. 'Tossing the tea like this makes it more tasty.', he explained to the new help standing right next to him, while greeting the customers who had just joined.

The arrangement of Baburam's tea stall was simple yet warm. There was an earthen hearth under the wooden roof, which itself stood on wooden pillars. There were no walls but plastic sheets covering the four sides, leaving a little space open for the boys to leave. Outside this small kitchen lay a few wooden benches for the customers to sit on and a large plastic sheet covering their heads. The mixture of aroma of tea and the incense from burning wood made the place so warm.

I had been sitting there in my special seat for five minutes, looking at the ways Baburam played with the boiling tea. He poured tea in three steel mugs, smiled at me and said, "Bas, sahib, do minute aur.(Sir, just two more minutes.)" The tea vessel was placed on the stove again. Extra milk, scent of cardamoms and the cream floating in the mug made my tea different from others'.

The special treatment I got in Baburam's tea stall always flattered me. "Yeh hamare master ji hain. Inke liye inki khaas kursi lao. Yeh baqi sab ki tarah in phattun par nahin baithte. Khaas grahak hain hamare. Samjhe? (This is our master ji. Get him his special chair. He doesn't sit on these benches like everyone else. He is our special customer. Understand?)", he explained to every new helper in his stall.

The cream swimming over the casserole of redolence of cardamoms was lying on my table. I was served by the owner himself. Baburam carried a small table and placed it right next to me, sat on it and said, "Sahib, kal pehli taareekh hai. Khatt likhwana tha. (Sir, tomorrow is the first day of new month. Write a letter for me, will you?)".

On the first of every month, Baburam would come to me and ask me to write a letter to his son. His son was away working in some city. Baburam would send him some money and a letter every month.

"Zarur. Baburam, har maheene ek he baat likhwate ho. Kabhi jawab bhi aaya kisi khatt ka?(Sure. Baburam, you ask me to write the same things in your letter every month. Does he ever write back?)", I said as I took out the pen and a notepad from my pocket. "Sahib, woh janta hai ki uska pita padh likh nahin sakta. Kya jawaab dega? (Sahib, he knows his father can not read. What will he reply?"), he smiled and looked down to the ground.

I started writing the letter- 'Dear son, hope you are doing good. Sending some money. Your mom misses you and wishes to see you soon. Take care.' That was all Baburam would want me to write always. He missed his son too but never wrote about it.

Two days later, while I was reading a book at my desk in my room, I sighted Baburam running towards my house. It was raining very heavily. He had covered his head with a piece of cloth that would usually hang around his neck. He took big steps to run faster and prevent his feet from falling into the ruts filled with muddy water. I got up and opened the door. "Kya hua, Baburam? (What is the matter, Baburam?)", I asked. He was in no condition to reply and let himself fall to the ground. He covered his eyes with the cloth and said, "Sahib, meri biwi bimar hai. (Sahib, my wife is sick)".

I had never seen Baburam so helpless. He sat there at my door, panting heavily. He managed to wipe the tears off his face. "Sahib, mere bete ko khatt likhiye aur usse kahiye ki uski maa bohat bimar hai. Usse kahiye ki woh usse bohat yaad karti hai aur ek aakhri baar usse dekhna chahti hai. (Sahib, please write a letter to my son and tell him that his mother is very sick. Tell him she misses him a lot and wants to see him one last time.)", he cried.

"Sahib, Main bhi usse yaad karta hoon lekin uski maa usse bohat yaad karti hai. Isi wajah se woh bimar padh gayi. Doctor kehte hain woh nahin bachegi. Woh bete ke baare mein har waqt poochti rehti hai. Main usse kya kahun? (Sahib, I miss him too but his mother misses him more. That made her sick. Doctor says she won't survive this. She keeps asking about her son all the time. What shall I tell her?)", helpless Baburam expected a solution from his master ji but how could I help when I didn't even know if his son got any letters I wrote.

"Ghar jao, Baburam. Apni biwi ke paas jao. Main tumhare bete ko jald se jald khatt bhej dunga. (Go home, Baburam. Go to your wife. I will post a letter to your son as soon as possible.)", I tried to make him feel better. After he left, I started writing a letter to his son. I told him how much his parents missed him, how thankless he had been for all these years for not replying to any of his father's letter and how he made his mother so sick that she would die soon.

I never saw Baburam after that day. That cold rain destroyed the warmth of his stall too. I wasn't sure if his son got my last letter too or did he not get any. People say that Baburam was not seen by anybody after his wife died.

"Incognizance"

As far as I could see, the street was deserted. It was the sudden change of climate that was keeping the people inside. I had wrapped myself up pretty well. A jacket made from fur, a woolen cap knitted by my grandma and a muffler round my neck were enough to keep away the chill. As I walked down the lane hurriedly with my hands inside the pocket, I realised that I was being followed by a shadow. That shadow could not be mine. It had four legs and a snout. I turned around to find two eyes looking at me. It was a dog. I wanted to hush him away but I could see in his eyes that  didn't want to be left alone. I let him come along.

I reached the place I started for. I was about to pull the door when the dog started licking my shoes. He wanted to come in. "Tiger", I named him instantly,"Go away. You are not allowed to come in. Go."

I rubbed my hands as I walked into the bar. It was warm inside. I took off the cap and unwound the muffler. I looked around. Every face in the room looked familiar. It was the regular bunch of people who visited the place often. All were busy chatting.

Of all the places I visited, this place was my favorite. I would come here every evening, talk to my friends, listen to their never ending non-sense, get drunk and forget all about the hectic day that had just passed.

I spotted my peeps sitting in a corner and a smile blossomed on my face. I started rushing towards the table. I almost bumped into a waiter. God knows how he managed to avoid the collision. Sorry I said but he was too much in a hurry to care.

There were five of us. Peter, David, Star, Singh and me. A gang of oldies. "Hey, boys", I greeted them and pulled out a chair. I noticed there was one another seat empty. "Star absent?", I asked. They were too busy to reply to the greet or my question.

Pete, among us all, was the most talkative man. He would talk senseless things and always find a logic behind every non-sense he said. He was very proud of his sense of humor. "It is God gifted", he would say. Nobody ever found his jokes funny but everybody laughed at them. "How big are the dinosaurs? Very big. Hahaha.", and our laughs would follow. Nonsense.

Pete was keeping them busy this time too. "You don't know the answer? Too bad. It is so easy.", he said. "What is the question, guys?", I asked the other two. No reply yet again.

I wanted to call out for the waiter but I could see none. Why is Star not with them? Is he not well? Too busy? Just then Pete's laughter broke out on the table. "This makes no sense. You made this up.", Singh was protesting while David was beating the table with his palm, "I knew this one. I should have guessed it. I am forgetting things. I am getting old", he said shaking his head in disappointment. I wanted to laugh out loud but retrograded  . Singh never liked people laughing at his failures.

"Drink. I need a drink. Waiter!", Pete called out, "Drink at table no. 5". "Make it two", I said. The boy came with drinks in a minute. With just one drink! Why was everyone so indifferent? "Are you still angry at the way my wife behaved? That was two weeks ago. Stop behaving like kids.", I tried to talk to them. They were not paying any attention.

My wife, Lisa, didn't like my hanging out with these people. "You come home late and you come home drunk. Need I say more why I hate your friends?", she would say. My friends knew about the way Lisa feels. We would go to Pete's, David's, Star's or Singh's after getting drunk but they never came to my house. That one day had they dared to come, Lisa got really upset and showed them out of the house. I wanted to stop her but she didn't listen.

None of the three answered. Pete was staring at his glass, shaking the liquid. "Any word from Star? How is he now?", he asked. "Talked to his son in the morning. The accident was too bad. He is recovering.", Singh replied. "And Lisa? How is she coping up?", David said, "Anyone talk to her?" His question made all uneasy. "Not after she pushed us out of the house and didn't not let us join the funeral of our dear friend.", Singh replied in disgust.

I remember the last time five of us met, we all got drunk. Star was too drunk- too drunk to drive. He met with an accident that day. I was with him. In that car. Thank God, I was not driving. Lisa would have been angry with me too. She still doesn't respond when I try to talk as if I am not there.

I wanted to tell them that Lisa's anger was genuine. But they started to leave and so did I.

God bless Murphy!

Something was making me uneasy. What was it? A dream? A nightmare? No. It was a sound. You know those tones that penetrate through your ear canal to reach your tympanic membrane and you end up thinking, "Oh crap! I am late."?

As soon as the dopey and drowsy me got up to dismiss the alarm I realised that it was not my thingamabob that was slugging my eardrums with the vocal pellets. I still had a sixtieth of the hour for few z's.

The hunt for the source of the nonharmonious sounds was on. I had to, at any cost, find the pitiless and destroy it. Just then the door buzzer rang. I got up to check. I found the newspaper lying on the door mat. Nobody in our house read these newspaper. These were instead used for cleaning when Lina , Mom's mouser, pooped all over the place.

I dropped the gazzette on the table amd went into the kitchen to look for something to eat. I realised that the day, with Mom out of the station, was going to be tough.

"Yuvi, be responsible. Lock the door. Take good care of your brother. Don't leave him alone. Don't fight with him.", Mom had listed many such things-to-do on a paper and left it by the fridge. "I never do, Mom. That boy seldom talks.", I protested.

The problem with my brother, Jai, was that he didn't talk at all.  Technically, I was to spend the day with my brother but Practically and substantially I was alone. It was like being alone in a room with five walls- One of which moved, ate things, played games, read books.

"Jai, Back from school?" "Hmmm."

"Jai, is Mom home?" "Hmmm."

"Jai, Are you even listening?" "Hmmm."

I had to wake that brat up and prepare breakfast for him.

"Jai. Dude. Wake up.", I tried to pull him out of his drowsiness. I knew this was going to be tough. "Hmmm", he replied. Tougher. "Jai. Wake up, man.", I tried again. He didn't even humm this time. That boy never took me seriously.

"Jai. Get up in half an hour or no meal for you.", I meant it by all my heart. I hated cooking. There is nothing to like but to hate is the dirty apron, the smell coming from all over your body. You smell like you have just been pressure cooked in ginger-garlic water. It was decided. I was going to spend all my savings and order food from the cheapest restaurant in town.

Thanks to the short lived beguin I developed for our first maid when I was 11, I knew how to fry eggs. I would notice her all day amd follow her everywhere.

Breakfast : check.
Lunch : What to do?

Thing was that I wish I did but I never saved any money. Circumstances were pushing me into the tarn of garlic. I had to cook something. I got into the kitchen and opened the drawer. Tater was staring at me with its multiple eyes. Oh I hate you, murphy. Shall I make tossed salad? Or chips? Or...  Umm.. argggghh I was hating my life right now. So, at last, Waldorf salad I made which nobody ate. Because potatoes were uncooked. But I tried.

I was pretty much sure that Jai won't let me cook anything now. I could do without dinner and so could he, at least after having the salad I made.

As soon as the it was the time for din-din, Jai took out the phone book, looked for some number and dialed. The shrimp ordered a pizza on phone. Who did he think would pay for it? His brother? Not at all.

I sat on the sofa and looked at him from behind the newspaper so that he doesn't notice. He ended the call and moved to his attire, took out his treasure chest which I always believed to be full of disfigured dolls, dismantled superheroes and trinkets. He took out a case and took out something- RICHES. This midget saved money!

Pizza came, he paid, we ate. He was sent to a very good school in town. They taught him good things like sharing food and toys. I never went to one of those school. I feel bad for him. Time to hit the sack. But before that I need to note down some importany things on my diary.

1. Stalking , people in general and housemaids in particular, is good.
2. Save money.
3. Cook potatoes well.
4. Newspapers are useful, after all.
5. There is a lot of treasure in Jai's almirah.
6. When needful, try calling Jai. He talks on phone.

I was so proud of myself. I felt like President of America. I pulled up the quilt. Two more days before mom comes back. I knew we would survive. Jai had enough money to afford six more meals. I patted myself on head and ZzzZzzZ..

He was gazing at the rain drops falling against the window pane. At the desk, right in front of him, was a blank piece of paper, wrinkled. Sunk in his thoughts, he sat there in the davenport with furrowed brows as if being displeased over his failure to recollect some memories. He uncreased the paper and sighed.

He wanted to write something. He had a pen right there on the desk. What was stopping him then? He was restless. He straightened his back and started tapping his foot. He, then, rested his elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands. Foot-tapping continued. He was very restless. He got up to gander out of the window. The rain was making no sound. The silence of the room was killing him. He took out his tux from the almirah, wore it and left the room.

"Hey, John. Up already? Breakfast?', the landlady was setting the table downstairs. "Good morning, Mrs. Gilbert. I think I will skip the breakfast. Going out to get some air.", he answered. "Ok. Your wish. So, written anything new? Or writing anything? You should let us read.", she said. "Ummm. Nothing. No writing. I will. Leaving now.", he uttered and left the house.

"Who was it?", Mr. Gilbert joined his wife for the breakfast. "John went out for a walk. Poor boy. That man knew how to play with words and please people. But now, not only does he not write anything but also refrains from speaking.", she sighed.

John was an unpublished writer. He used to say that he would be world famous the day he gets published and he had been working on it. All would know him and recognize his writing. "Mrs. Gilbert, you should know that yours truly won't be living with you for long now. Once I get published I will be famous and rich. I will have my own big house with no landlady eager to ball me up all the time.", he would laugh and tell Mrs. Gilbert.

John ran to the other side of the road and started walking down the path. He just kept walking without paying any attention to people or things happening around him. Hands in the pocket and head down. He was looking at the patterns made by the raindrops on the dry ground. By the time he reached the cafe, it had stopped raining. He went inside, took off his coat and hung it by the chair. "Hey John. How have you been man? Long time, no see.", the shop owner greeted him with a broad smile.

"Hello. Just been busy.", John replied briefly, "I will have a coffee." "Yes Boss. One coffee coming your way.", owner replied. John had known the owner, Dave, for five years. He used to come to this shop often. He would sit on the same table every time and scribble on paper napkin.

John looked all over the table and then sat quiet. He looked out the window. He watched people walk by, smile, greet each other. "Looking for something, John? A pen and a paper maybe?", Dave took out a pen and napkin from his drawer and presented it to John. John sat quiet with shady smile on his face. Dave left the pen and paper on his table.

After finishing his coffee, he took up the pen. He scribbled something and left. The paper was lying there on the table with something written on it. Written on it was:

"That Flame Gutted my Fame, It will never be same, ever again. Never again."

Absolution

"Next", shouted the man in a black coat. The place was so crowded. They were pulling a man out of the room like a donkey. He didn't look up even once. The man with a stick would hit him again and again.

"Move. Move fast. Where do you think you are? At some recreational park?", he said.

"Look boy", said the Hawaldar standing next to me, "This is what they do to people like you. You will learn a lesson soon. Do you see that man? Handcuffed? He killed a Seth for money."

That man's eyes were so full of guilt. He was ashamed. He didn't look up even once. The policeman would hit him but he didn't utter a word.

"When I leave that room I would not be ashamed. What for? I didn't do any wrong.", I thought to myself.

"Your turn, kid. Get up. We have to go in now.", the Hawaldar said and pulled my collar. As we entered the room, everyone looked at me as if in astonishment. "He is the culprit? He seems young. What would be his age? 14? Or 15? Not any more, I bet. God show him the right path", said a lady sitting in the corner. Soon silence invaded the room. Bade sahib was sitting there, checking the papers related to my case. I was told that he would decide my fate today.

"He seems nice. He won't punish me.", I was telling myself. Bade sahib looked at me over his glasses and then took them off. "So boy, these papers say that you killed someone. Do you have to say anything about it?"

I was 14 then. Lived in a small hut with my Maa and Baba. My Baba was a policeman. Maa used to take care of the house, fields, farms and everything. She also worked in other houses for money. She would finish her work at home early and leave. Then she would get back right before the sunset.

"Your Baba will be coming anytime. Go study. You know that he doesn't like your playing around all the time", she would say. "Ammi, Baba won't notice. And he is angry all the time.", I  joked.

Ammi and Baba had been married for 25 years. Ammi was just 16 when she married Abbu.

"Your Nana Abbu wanted to find a handsome and well paid groom for me. I would find you a prince and you will rule he used to say. But he didn't live that long.", she said.

Ammi used to tell me stories from her childhood. That Nana Abbu took care of her. That he fulfilled all her wishes.  "Your Nani Ammi died when I was 4. Your Nana Abbu brought me up after that. He never married again because he feared that the second mother won't love me.", she told me, "I was the most lucky kid. But after your Nana Abbu died everything changed. I married your Baba and everything changed." She heaved a sigh. She was not happy with my Baba.

"Boy, do you have anything to say about this? Did you kill anyone?", Bade Sahib shouted.

"My Baba. That someone I killed was my Baba. I killed my Baba.", I replied.

Baba used to be out  all day and come home drunk. She beated Ammi, cursed her, abused her. But she never let him touch me. "Go to your room Asif. Don't you see your Baba is angry. Go to your room and lock it from inside.", she said. I would run to my room and hide there. I could easily hear Ammi crying and Abbu abusing and beating her. I cried. I always wanted to help Ammi but was too scared to come out.

She never wanted me to be a part of all this.

"Asif jaan, you should study hard and be a big man. You will have money, good clothes, big house, your own cars and many servants. Your wife will not have to work at all.", she used to say.

"Why did you kill your father?", Bade sahib asked. "I didn't kill my Baba. He was not my Baba. He was some beast. He was an animal."

That night I was doing my homework in the porch. It was dark already and the Ammi had not returned yet. I thought I should go out and look for her but she had asked me not to leave the house in the dark. She must be working too hard. That is why she comes home late. I thought.

Baba came home and Ammi had not returned yet. "Where is your Ammi?", he asked. "She is not back yet.", I replied. "Not back yet? What is she doing these days? Where does she go in the dark? Who does she meet?", he held my collar and said, "Tell me. She tells you everything. Is she seeing someone? Who is she with?". "I don't know. I am worried myself.", I replied. "You liar. You think you can fool a policeman? I will set you and your Ammi right.", he slapped me.

My friends used to say that everybody thought very low of my father. They thought that he was a very cruel and wicked person. I argued with them always and told them that my Baba was a good policeman. But reality was not hidden.

"Leave him. What are you doing?. Neither I nor Abbu noticed Ammi entering the house. "Asif, go to your room now.", she said to me. I didn't move. Baba started beating Ammi"Where were you? Who were you with? Witch.", he started abusing her.

Ammi was used to this beating now. She never said anything in response because she knew that Baba won't listen. But I could not just sit and be an audience to all this. I gathered courage and said,"Leave my Ammi. She didn't do anything." "Your Ammi is innocent? And what am I? Animal?" he asked. "Yes, you are an animal.", I replied. "So, you think I am an animal? Let me show you what an animal does.", he got furious. He went to the kitchen and brought a knife. "He will kill you' Asif. Go away please." Ammi could not stand up well due to the beating.

I don't remember what happened after that. All I remember was that I stood there with the knife in my hand. Baba was lying on the ground, all his clothes covered with blood.

"Don't be silent boy. Say something. Why did you kill your Baba? What did he do to you?", Bade Sahib asked again.

"Punish me", I said, "and set me free". For all I knew whatever be the decision I won't be ashamed of what I did. 

"Second place"

"What do you want?" asked Ammi, in a harsh tone, "Don't you have any work to do?"

I stood there quiet. "Go get milk for your brother. He must be hungry", she said.

I went to the kitchen. I poured milk into a steel bowl and put it on the stove. We cooked food on a kerosene stove. There was a fireplace in the kitchen. The fire would burn whole day in winters. It was a cold day. I went to the fireplace to warm my hands.

As I looked at the flames, I thought about the wood- How it begins its life as a small tree planted in soil, grows big, then someday some woodcutter cuts it down and we burn it to ashes. Selfish, is it?

Our teacher used to say that plants have life too. They breathe and feel like us humans. He would take the whole class out on fridays and show us different trees and plants. He made us plant few trees too.

I had completely forgotten about the milk on stove. I was so lost in the flames that I could hardly hear the milk come to boil until I heard Ammi calling out my name. "Asma! Asma! What happened to the milk? Why don't you reply? Are you dead or what? Your brother is hungry", she kept shouting in anger and disgust. I ran to the stove quickly and got hold of the utensil with bare hands and put it down. I gave myself a slap for not being careful. Ammi was angry and she had not stopped shouting yet. But after a point, I stopped paying an ear to her. I poured the milk into a glass and ran to the room. As I entered the room, Ammi didn't look at me at all but continued with the scolding. "One job you can't do well. Such lazy and careless person you are. I still curse the time you came into our life." She took the glass from my hands. "Ah! This is so hot", she said and put it on the floor. "Do you want to kill your brother? This milk is burning. Let your Abbu come. I will talk to him. We will send you back."

I was 3 months old when my Amma died. I don't even know how she looked. I was left in an orphanage by an acquaintance. Badi Aapa look after everyone in the orphanage. She told me that no one knew about my father. He had left my mother and went abroad. He never came back.

Abbu and Ammi brought me home when I was 5 years old.

"Badi Aapa wants to see you in her office", Kaka came to call me when I was sitting in my room drawing a tree on a piece of paper. I went to Badi Aapa's office.

"Here she comes. Come in darling. Say Salaam to these nice people", she pointed towards the man and the lady. They turned and smiled. "Salam-u-alaikum", I said. "Walaikum salam", they said. The lady got up and came to me, held my hands and kissed them. "So lovely. You have such soft hands. What is your name, beta?", she asked.

I didn't reply. Badi Aapa could see that I was scared. She had known me for years. I was not very good at meeting new people and I was too young to realise what was going on.

"Asma.", Badi Aapa said and turned towards me. "Asma Jaan, these people want to take you home with them. They will buy you new clothes, books and send you to school too. They are your Ammi and Abbu".

I looked down. I didn't know what to say. Why does Badi Aapa want to send me away? What did I do? Did I break any rule? Did I not be nice to everyone? I couldn't think of any good reason to send me away.

Another moment, my bags were packed and I had to leave. My eyes were full of water. I talked to none, sat in the car and left.

Abbu and Ammi bought me new clothes, chocolates and got me admitted to a school. Abbu would take me to the school and pick me up in the evening. Every morning Ammi would pack my tiffin and wave me off for school. She would always cook my favorite dishes.

I had a family now. I was the most loved kid. I was not an orphan anymore.

Ammi was still furious, more at the fact that I was not paying attention and was busy in my own thoughts. She put the brother down and got up, "I will never ask you to do any work now. You can't even help your Ammi. What are you here for, then? You are nothing but a disappointment", she said and went to the kitchen.

My brother was 4 years old. He called me Aapa. He was born a year after I came to this house. Abbu was so happy that he distributed sweets in the whole neighborhood. " This is my first child. My son.", he would say. "Asma, did you see your brother?", he said to me. Then he took out a 50 rupees note and said, "Take this. Go buy some sweets and distribute among your friends in school. Tell them you have a brother now."

"They won't love you the way they did. They will love him more", my friends said. I never believed them. I loved my bhaiya. We played together all the time. We played hide and seek. I would tell him fairy tales and he believed each one of them.

"I want to meet the fairy too", he would say.

But things changed. It was not same again. Never.

Abbu came back in the evening. He greeted everyone. Ammi was still upset. She had not talked to me since morning. Abbu tried to talk to her but she got up and went to the adjacent room. Abbu followed her.

Why was Ammi so upset? Because I couldn't warm the milk well? Was it just that or something else was pestering her. I wondered.

Not even a minute had passed, Ammi started shouting at Abbu. She was crying. Abbu tried to calm her down but she wouldn't listen.

"I don't want that orphan in my house. I don't want Azam jaan to live with her. Do you even know what neighbours say? Bibi Shazia told me things I couldn't believe. I don't want that to happen to us. Ask her to leave or I will leave with my son," she shouted.

Bibi Shazia was a neighbour and Ammi's good friend. She came to visit Ammi often and Ammi went to her place too. Neighbours had been telling Ammi stories. I, myself, heard Bibi Shazia telling her about a family like ours where the adopted kid killed their baby because he feared that he won't be loved. But I never thought Ammi would believe them. She knew I loved Azam.

Abbu came out and closed the door behind him. "What happened, Abbu? Why is Ammi so angry?", Azam asked.
"Nothing kid. Ammi is upset. She will be fine", he said and smiled at me.

Abbu would have never asked me to leave. He had promised Badi Aapa that he would always love me as his own daughter.

But how could I stay? How could I live at a place where I was being seen as a threat? I couldn't be a cause of fear for Ammi.

So I left when it got dark. And I left to never return.

Time flies....

... He walked down the lane hastily. Approached the impasse, stopped and looked at the sky; disappointed. Then he looked at his watch and heaved a sigh.

It was 4 in the morning. Thee sun was not out yet. It was still dark. He rested his arm on a stone protruding out of the wall. He jingled the coins in his pocket with other hand.

He remembered his 2 days old daughter. He remembered how she was crying and the neighbour lady had said, " She must be hungry."

Two days ago, he was blessed with a daughter. Everybody told him that she was beautiful just like her mother. He was too scared to take her into his arms for the first time. He was afraid that he might hurt the feeble.

He was very angry with his wife. "Why did she have to leave? Why couldn't she live more and help him bring up their daughter? What would he do now? How will he manage?".

The sun was out. People were out. World was back to life again. He looked at the shop. It was closed. He took out the coins and started counting, tossing from one hand to other. He stared at the coins and clenched his fist tight enough to get good hold of coins. He stood there drenched in thoughts.

The clatter of the shutters dragged him out of his thoughts. He ran towards the shop, gesturing the cars to stop and let him go. He stepped into the shop and looked around. There were sweets, cookies, bread.

The shopkeeper smiled and asked, "Good morning, Sir. What do you want?". He looked at the shopkeeper and turned back to see if there was anybody behind him.

"Me?", he asked, "I want food for my daughter."

"Oh, for the daughter. Take some jalebis. Girls like jalebis.", said the shopkeeper.

"No. No, not jalebis. Something healthy and clean". He looked around again. Lost for a while, checked every counter well and then asked, "How much for a single piece of bread?", pointing towards the bread.

Shopkeeper asked, "Single piece?".

"Yes. A single piece.", he replied.

The shopkeeper gave him a stern look. He went to the store room, brought two loaved of bread and handed over to him. "Take this and go away".

"I have these eight 1 rupee coins", he started counting the coins again.

"No. No. You don't need to pay for this. Just go away and let me work.", said the shopkeeper shoving him away.
He thanked the shopkeeper and left.

He walked back to the house. The baby was lying there, still crying. He went to her and whispered, "Abbu got food. Don't cry." He took the bread out of his pocket and looked. He didn't know what to do with this bread. He was clueless.

He had always wanted a daughter but his wife wanted their first child to be a son. They would fight over ig and then leave all upto fate.

"Could she have survived if it was a boy? Did she leave because we fought? Did she leave because her wish was not fulfilled.", he thought.

How could he think so?, he slammed himself. He was lucky to have a beautiful daughter, beautiful and tender like a rose. She was his only family now.

He went to the kitchen, took a bowl, put some water in it and soaked the bread. The bread was soft now. He mashed it well and tried to feed the baby. It didn't work. "What? You don't want bread? What do you want then?"

----------x----------x----------x----------

"Abbu, your tea." said the girl in a very soft and sweet voice.

"Hmmm", he woke up from his trail of thoughts, "keep it there."

He was sitting there in his chair, gray and wrinkled. He was old now. He looked at his daughter. She had grown up into a beautiful young girl. Her eyes were most pretty. She was very caring and her Abbu's favorite.

"I am leaving for the college. Your breakfast is ready and set on the table. Have it on time.", she said and disappeared from his sight.

He sat there thinking to himself- How Time flies!